One Homonym
by VidGmr1996
Summary: Hoo boy did the Ult. Mercenary had me dying with that temper tantrum. Thanks to "Just a Guy"'s comment from YouTube (forgot which vid had it) for jumpstarting my inspiration to do this. Was a nice challenge to make a full-fledged story for someone who doesn't have one at all. EDIT: Sorry if the story went ghost for a bit! It's back up now! Musta been a glitch, fuh...
1. Prologue

**:::Disclaimer: The _Sonic_ series and its characters are all owned by Sega.:::**

* * *

Doctor Eggman has been standing halfway up, hands cocked on the handles of his comfy chair for the past few minutes, in anticipation of what's laid out before him on the computer screen. It was like watching pay-per-view, except he was both the sole audience and mastermind behind it all. Once in a while, he taps a key to change the cameras outputted through several of his badniks.

A small group of G.U.N. agents had already faced the worst of it, skirting through and destroying a dozen Crabmeats, and nearly facing death from a huge stretch of weakened earth.

 _Click._ Eggman switches from the cam of a fallen Rhinobot to what he assumes to be a Leon, based on the strange angle. A pellet of energy spitting out from the bottom of the screen confirms this, to which one of the agents take notice of this and leaps to the side, firing his ammunition of energy blasts. The camera jolts and a cloud of dirt covers its vision-it saunters through the air as a rocket propeller blasts through his speakers, nearly colliding face-first into two of them. It prepares to curve itself back towards—

 **LEON..259901-GHZ.C1 SIGNAL LOST.**

 _Click._

Eggman's teeth are clamped down on each other so hard one can argue it'll be nigh impenetrable to break through them as his eyes are ever so glued to the screen.

The current point-of-view shows something sailing out of the sands and over the striped grass, making the agents huddle on the ground. The badnik cam seems to fall off of its method of transportation-a growling sandworm, to which it had fallen into the sea of sand on the other side, causing quite a quake.

Between the blades of grass, the agents nod to each other in confirmation and proceed to storm off, nearly tripping over them themselves as a column of energy converts their kinetic force into static.

Eggman finally heaves a hearty laughter. "Oh ho ho ho ho!"

 _Click._

Through another Buzzer cam—

" _Yes_ , finally!" he shouts, brandishing enthusiastic fists high into the air. "Oh ho ho," he brings his hands down on either end of the keyboard, the console bobbling slightly from the abrasive motion. He wanted to see the results in full effect, witnessing the meddlesome group all tangled up with each other within the confines of a Klagen as it floats off.

The rotund scientist yanks an Egg sandwich off a nearby plate, gouging the centermost part with a hearty bite. "More to add to my captor collection. A new opposition thought they could chew a hole into my base's defenses...and it has only been a week—"

A glimpse of crimson pulses through the room.

A hand-a wet one-which had crept upon Eggman's shoulder, twirls his port-bellied self around to face a being half his size, causing a half-eaten Egg sandwich to be wrenched out of his hands, its airborne journey ending in an anticlimactic 'splat' on the recently-sanitized floor. Then, that same gloved hand coils its fingers around his collar and pulls him close to his masked face, his other hand holding a twitching, crimson carcass of cubes. Eggman can smell the liquid dripping off of him, strangely sweet in its odor. Underneath that one-eyed visor can the creature hear his own, low-pitched growling paired up with heavy breaths, causing his chest to heave in and out, attempting to control these layers of anger as to not further the rage swelling up inside him.

"Wha...how did you escape from your resting tank?! And what is the meaning of this, Infinite?!...I command you to stop this at once!" Eggman shouts a meaty, angered scream at the masked being. His single eye stares into the scientist's own glassed pair, and a silent duel of the Doctor's anger and the dwelling rubic energy of the creature seemed to reach a stalemate. After a long minute had went by did Infinite loosen his grip on the scientist, letting his gruesome power submit back into nothingness.

"My apologizes, sir. I've must have taken your word out of context," he says with his deep voice, readjusting the doctor's skewered collar back in place before Eggman swats his hand off him, curling his fingers around the masked one's damp wrist.

"Should I have taken _you_ out of context? You should be thankful for what I've given you!" he states loudly, with every word emphasized with the strangling of Infinite's cuffed wrist. "I've revitalized you to a height many others wished to have obtained!"

For a second, he was afraid of the doctor, in spite of his cognizance of the man's meek strength compared to his. And still, the creature compliantly hears his words. He didn't mean to do what he did moments before. A single word caused him to act so recklessly, even with all this power. He feels ashamed to feel so worked up over that. It was his instinctive high getting the better of him once again, the first in a long while since his defeat...

The mustached dictator frees Infinite's wrist and tidies himself back to a presentable appearance, observing his silent henchman as his wings of facial hair banked side to side for a bit.

The creature's golden eye and clawed fingers take a gander at the mess.

"Commander, let me clean up—"

"—No! Cubot!"

The cubed, metal servant hovers to his master. He stops with his head pitched up to his creator, and lanky arms leaving his hands to lay limp over each other.

"Yes, Master Eggman?"

The obese man zings a index finger straight to the collapsed bundle of food on the floor.

"You know what to do..."

Cubot just looks at it.

"...Eat it—?"

A sounding slap almost knocks Cubot's head off its neck socket, the strike coming out so instantly it was like the doctor was wholly expecting a nonsensical response.

"You idiot! Clean it up! Chop-chop!" He claps his hands.

"Right away sir!" Cubot salutes before sailing off on his rectangular hoverbottom, looking to find a mop of sorts.

The scientist's gaze turns back to Infinite.

"I shouldn't waste your time with such mundane tasks such as cleaning up messes on the floor. Instead, why don't you train some of that anger you so distastefully streaked onto me, and unleash it on our dearest frenemy Sonic?"

"...Sonic? Why not the Shadow?" Infinite ponders.

"'The Shadow?' What...oh, _Shadow_?! Well, aside from that pincushion putting a stamp on one of my plans, his effects on my soon-to-be-global empire was at best partial. The real target we should be focusing on is Sonic. He's something else...a real pain, our true source of opposition. You understand, don't you? He makes even the strongest band of sandworms look like mere _earthworms_ compared to him! I mean, have you ever had that feeling of being atop of the world, where the sky was your only limit, only to have that one person destroy everything you obtained, and strip you of your former glory?!" Eggman profoundly hoists his hand in to the air with a mighty grip.

"Yes," Infinite takes a step forward, his leather glove scrunches with his taut fist.

"Oh, right..." Eggman feels a bit foolish to forget such a turn of events that happened not-so-long ago. "But!" He exclaims, "Luckily for us, not only will I pack the guns for our next encounter...we have you," he turns around, finger aptly pointing straight as his lackey.

"There's a reason why you are called Infinite..." Eggman rises from his chair. He slowly walks around his henchman with an arm folded behind his back. "Your power is en masse, something that can cause my data scanners to overload! I expect the both of us to stop Sonic right then and there once we get to the City by twilight." The Doctor shifts himself back to the direction of his computer, tapping in a command to review the manufacturing progress of his machines.

"Onceafter all of my troops are prepared, we will proceed to take control of the City, with no remorse! In due time, that blasted hedgehog will wedge himself in the middle of our 'little' ambush, oh believe me on that. He _always_ does...and when it happens, he will realize that this time, it will be the greatest mistake of his life. Anyways, in the meantime, why don't you help yourself to the VR training? After all, someone like you has to make sure the Sky is _beyond_ the limit, and therefore, you alone can reach the Sun" he stated, gesturing a hand in the air.

Infinite feels his pride thriving everytime the Doctor praises him. One might even see the amusement in his eye underneath that thick mask.

"I can, Commander. I will" he lightly nods to Eggman before trailing off, heading towards the exit several yards away.

Something comes over Infinite as he stops.

"Commander Eggman..."

"Yes, Infinite?"

"My squad...will they be given a second chance?" he gives his leader a curious eye.

Eggman had noticed the minuscule bits of softness thinly veiled underneath a layer of fortitude at that moment. This causes him to think about the question for a time.

"Only time will tell, my friend." he simply retorts.

The dreadlocked creature delivers a small nod and shows himself out, slowly treading his floating form past the dozens of containment chambers around him on either side of the pathway.

As he leisurely approaches the containment doors, he ponders back to a simpler time, walking through the slums of town.

* * *

 **I started writing this back in early Dec. '17, since I was in the mood to write something.**

 **Now will this be the prime, most perfect backstory for Infinite? Prolly not. 'Thought this would be fun to do, tho.**

 **Little trivia about this chapter:**

 **-...This is what I was hearing while I was retooling Eggman's dialogue in between drafts to make him sound more...like Eggman: watch?v=ywyRI75T_Iw**


	2. Zero

If a foreigner had first laid eyes on the community, they wouldn't be able to tell the difference, probably not even through a double-take, nor the small stretch of hill that tried to enforce the distinguishing halves. Both the rich and poor alike took residence in elaborate homes that resembled huts. The decorations on their houses on both ends of the financial spectrum look identical, except the rich's houses poised glimmers of sapphire, while the poor had aquamarine. Nonetheless, every house had at least an elderly living amongst her descendants, allowing their families to prosper as their faces withheld strange masks, some more bizarrely decorated or uniquely designed than others. Their purpose appear to be ambiguous, with a random lot of them wearing them during mundane things such as chatting amongst their canine selves, to flossing the thick lawns with a grass brush. Sometimes you might see an occasional mask removal, but their unveiling turns out to be not much at all; maybe a spot on their fur, but nothing worrisome.

If you were an individual like Little Boy, you would know that what you were born with held some merit. Unfortunately, things have appeared to lean towards the side of adversity, because of a trait he carried since birth, which had given his family bad stigma.

The 'scar' on his face. An obvious attribute that lent itself from the center of his forehead streaking through his right eye, tapering off the side of it, right above his white muzzle. It was told to be a sign of weakness, a harsh truth many would deny time and time again, until they submit to its valid influence. He also had 'twosome-lens', or what he later learned to be known as 'heterochromia', which was said to pave the way for his family towards a life of great, expansive luck. In fact, this particular oddity nullified any malignant traits one may have. The only issue was that this was a rare occurrence, having someone holding these two distinct traits, the first of its kind of which had happened. When Little Boy was just a pup, his parents would argue on which of the traits would overpower the other. They needed luck on their side; desperately, in fact. His family was niggling within the poverty side of town, and only had just enough brass rings to live by, and to give to the male elderlies living in the wheathside to confirm any omens. And still, all their effort to earn a measly ring was for naught, as even the wise made a fuss of confusion over the jackal's double-inheritance.

By this juncture, this was where his parents finally decided a name for their boy. He carried both the benign and malign, and neither side appear to cause any effect, resulting in an an impasse. Because of this, he was titled 'Zero.'

As he grew up and was old enough to walk and talk, Zero eavesdropped on his parents, who were discussing the omens he'd gotten, occasionally with his grandmother. The stories of luck intrigued him, sounded something good. Even as a little child, Zero would occasionally be able to decipher the privileges the slums got compared to the wealthier neighborhoods. He wanted to prove that he was a vessel for luck, not only for them, but even for a source of amusement. The little Zero tried to find a triple-striped blade of grass, and everywhere he went it was nowhere to be found. He sung a howl into the cloudy skies to reap the thunderous terror and show the glistening light to water-drunken plants, but the cinereal clouds stayed stagnant in the air, nonsubmissive to any charm he assumed he had. It was slowly realized that one of the sides had come to fruition; it definitely wasn't the work of his twosome lens, surely.

Zero tried his hand on proving that he wasn't some weak jackal amongst the black-and-white canines when he grew older, dabbling in the practices of sword fighting. The old, masked patriarchs were at first hesitant, but his parents pleaded for them to allow this. There was a dash of hope that his luck was hidden in combat. He could fight his way up through the ranks, tear through opponents with ease during the annual grand tournaments, and stand tall above even the mightiest warrior in the village. Zero would occasionally sit back and watch swordfighters go at it in the slums. He also read stories of big-scale warriors in their heyday from generations ago, every so often reading them to himself, even trying to mimic their moves shown in the sewn fabric. But sadly, he was always the one that stumbled onto the ground, wondering what had made the battle end so fast. Something that Zero could never suppress was his abundance of thinking, doubting himself based on what others had told him.

What was he supposed to do about his 'scar', shave it off? He tried, but the newborn hairs on his face came back with that grayish sheen, some say whiter than even before, and that meant worse things could happen to his family! Oh, did he felt so foolish to attempt to ward off the bad omen, but Zero's naivety made his parents start to show their resentment towards him. The air stung of the good life jettisoned, affecting others. He made various folk tainted with shamefulness, and many growing their own personal vendettas against him. They stood their distances from him, like a magnet rebounding homogeneous attraction. Zero did try to talk to others around his age, but they talked through their fists and feet, buckling him down into a fetal-positioned dreck caught in the bundle of tall grass, where no one saw him beaten him. Soon, the grand council named him to be a strong influence of weakness, and he was ousted permanently by them after a vote on his rights as a citizen.

Zero wanted a mask, and was always curious to how their weird designs drew him in, but even that was kept on lockdown the most of all. Couldn't they have at least given him one, at least the ugliest one? The stores down in the slums with fake imitations had already restricted him from access. It really made his heart sting whenever he saw other jackals with flawed traits given permission to have opportunities to buy this thing or that, touch that thing or this. Another instance of spirit-crushing was by this point the way everyone else always said his name, 'Zero,' like it was something that had to be spat out quickly. They said his name rather fast, and he begun to assume that if one were to say it slowly, it might grant them a lots of bad luck. Since he was usually feeling down, one day, he tried his luck for bad luck, and pronounced his name at a slower pace. Nothing happened. The spitefulness continued day after day, up until it was his time for banishment.

On one notable night, everything was dead silent. Nobody came out to sing any songs, to chat, to bet on their jewelry, nothing. He snuck outside, and decided to make a little fire for himself. It flickered relentlessly, but for some reason, this particular fire was special to him. He didn't know why, it just was. The sparkling glow appeared to tell him to keep calm, and stay warm. He brought his palms, wearing those shabby gloves, appreciating the warmth behind something so ferocious. It amazed him how this little monster caused a connection between itself and him with the power of natural comfort.

 _Dom. Dom-Dom. Dom-Dom._

Oh no. They're coming.

 _Dom-Dom. Dom-Dom._

He was getting acquainted with his cackling friend.

 _Dom-Dom Dom Dom-Dom. Dom-Dom._

If only they hadn't been so finicky with the way they handled heat, he would've held it close to him, and think of only good thoughts. Maybe hold a stick—?

 _Dom-Dom. Dom-Dom._

—No, it wasn't enough. He wanted to carry the whole body of flames with him.

 _Dom-Dom. Dom-Dom Dom_ _ **Dom-Dom.**_

The beating—it was getting louder. Zero plopped back on the ground, and crept his hands around the flame's formless shape. If he couldn't hold it, then he could embrace its fervor.

 ** _Dom-Dom Dom-Dom. Dom-Dom-Dom Dom-Dom Dom-Dom-Dom..._**

The fire shone hints of jagged shapes entrenching the nightfall. They're here. The fired had told him of how much distance the solemn patriarchs had before they could reach them. However, he tried to ignore them, tried to cling to these fleeting moments of peace with his fire.

 _ **Dom-Dom-Dom Dom-Dom Dom-Dom-Dom, Dom-Dom Dom-Dom-Dom Dom-Dom Dm-Dm Dm-Dm Dm-Dm Dm-Dm...**_

The drummers enforced a presence that was unheralded to Zero. He couldn't hide his fear as the elderlies stayed tightly-knit, all of them holding a huge staff, with the performers on either side. They knew Zero's scar was on his right, so the drummer on their left sprinkled their head and shoulders with a chalky substance, daring to walk ahead of them to place a hand on the jackal's shoulder, picking him up and twisting him around.

The chalked drummer slowly kept the canine walking forward for a bit, then stopped. Zero looked behind, saying his farewell to his friend. The other drummer detached the cloth on top of his drum barrel and leaned the huge object, causing the fire to choke on a gallon of water, shrinking it down to a smoldering pile rocking inside the firewood.

Zero bit his lip, holding back a whimper as a tear broke past a shut eyelid.

They walked around the swoon fire, and the unchalked drummer placed the cloth back on top of the drum, and continued the ominous cadence once again.

 ** _Dm-Dm Dm-Dm Dm-Dm Dm-Dm, Dom-Dom Dom-Dom-Dom Dom-Dom..._**

Finally, the staff touched the poor jackal's back and the chalked drummer released him as Zero's feet start to slide against the grains of the dirt. In order to further disperse the misfortune out of town, the tip of the pole was also coated in chalk. Their clan shall no more be pestered with the thought of extinction, only growth. But as Zero was forcibly pushed from town did his spirits dwindle.

People began to peek through their windows and doors. At first they looked nervous, but when Zero was passing right by them, their faces hardened into apathetic stares. It was a sign of victory over the evils that frequently invaded their civilization. Then it came time for him to slide forth past the home of his blood relatives. Zero kept his eyes on them for as long as he could. His parents tried keeping a stern face as he passed, but their honest emotions cracked through. They couldn't bear to have a stone expression while watching their own Little Boy despoiled.

And by the time his feet slid on the boundaries of the community, the masked jackals gave him a quick shove with the stick, and then they drew it back. Within a slow minutes, the town was driven back to normalcy, at least for them.

The elders were all huddled together as they spun the staff around, spreading a cloud of chalk into the air, shrinking Zero's influence into nothingness.

Tears deformed his sight's clarity as he ran deep in the woods, with his tail trembling between his fleeting legs. Later on, Zero noticed that he was able to run past thick trunks under huge branches, with the help of scarlet Moonlight. In fact, it was shining rather brightly this night. He perched a finger across his muzzle, brushing off the rocking tears as he peered up at it.

There, he wondered if the fire did not die. Had it rose up into the air, and gave the Moon a bright, reddened glow, to guide him through the forest?

He hoped so.

* * *

 **Nice lil' note: The very first couple drafts of this chapter were complete and utter TRASH. Glad I realized during my 3rd draft of the story I decided to completely revamp this whole pt. and slowly but surely formed it into the chapter you're reading right now.**

 **Some other trivia: The beating drum scene was written in after being inspired by reading Todd McFarlane's Spider-Man.**


	3. Renegade

He never had blue jelly before, yet it was undeniably _delicious_. The gelatinous mass ran itself between chips of white bread, the whole chunk of food coating his taste buds as he chewed. A simple dish had put his mind at peace, for once.

Inside a rather busy restaurant, the reserved Zero sat alone at a table, a whole ring of people chatting amongst themselves as he ate. This was his best first time in a restaurant since two days ago. Every other eatery he went to was left with bleak financial outcomes and shed tears. He never really was one to stay in the same place, finding a job here, taking some money there, training elsewhere, and the like.

The only thing, his only friend, was that crimson blade sitting on the chair opposite from him. Its ruby color was something to behold for him, and it carried a starry glaze on the offensive end of it, with a silver curve caving its shave slightly. The dominant red reminded him of his warm friend, and it stood out from the usual browns, greens and even the golds he saw back in the village he lived in, and hated...and _ravaged_ ; the latter he had done several months ago. His black, canine lips parted in amusement as he remembered seeing those elderlies cowering from him. It was one, lonely day in the forest where a simple solution to his shortcomings in combat came to him-don't think it. _Do_ it. His claws and fangs that he trained on many defenseless trees, stones, even beasts months before did nearly all the talking for him, driving panic into the hearts of all the citizens. Their fighters were no match for the unexpected prodigy pounding them into the ground from whence his bullied body had laid. The town was undoubtedly afraid of the Unlucky's return, and before he could do further damage did they satisfy one impromptu request.

His glossy twosome-lens took a liking to the red sword which sat in the elderly shrine of the wheathside. He remembered hearing about its uniqueness, its ability to pave visibility to its color for even the most color-blinded victim to see. And it was definitely a one-of-a-kind sight, the way the beads of carmine glitter engraved in it danced restlessly against every shift and tweak of his eyes reminded him of the way the still-less fire rapidly ruptured itself against any and all things motionless. He forgotten the masks, as they never held his mind together, never gave him the comforting blanket of warmth, nor did they give him an inclination to scratch that daily, pugilistic itch that subconsciously irked him. The prime elder's aged hand shook in fear while it trudged itself to the Unlucky, fingers holding the sword of all swords. And when the scarred jackal grabbed it, all savagery dissipated from him. He simply strode through his hometown left slashed and bitten by his own vengeance.

Before he ventured back into the outskirts again, he saw his grandmother, stubborn and moved by the seeds of culture laced in their kin, standing front and center admist the damaged horizon. Her mask was joined by an ensemble of talismans which claimed to heal what was stricken by the Unlucky. She tried keeping a strong posture, wobbling under knobby knees while both hands held her own blade. She was still capable of running straight towards her grandson, blade hoisted by her side, intending to dispel the sword he held, but Zero was faster. Unlike her, he was able to leap and get in a direct slice. She fell to her knees as the halves of her mask clattered on the ground. She tossed her hands into her eyes while she cried, knowing that her charms failed to stop the evil, and now that her protection was broken, she too was cursed. Cursed by the renegade. Those soft cries almost made him stop walking, but his mind told him to leave with his newfound gift, his official 'peace treaty' he made in accordance with the town. And so he did. The town's fate as a whole was unknown to him; he gave him back the smiting they gave him, and he finally got what he wanted. He was known to them as a renegade jackal, ruthless in his delivery, merciful in his exit.

Nonetheless, blueberry jam tasted pretty nice compared to the thick supporting columns of straws his tongue bristled on.

He looked up at the chocolate, pastel orange mixture of colors plastered on the leaning ceiling, created by the illuminated chandeliers strewn about it, hovering over the chatty floor. From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something moving on the topside, a sentient shadow among idle ones.

A kunai stabbed through the last piece of bread, slicing into the plate as a note hung around its handle.

The bridge of disturbed busybodies had noticed the sound of the weapon zipping through the air, and was now fixed on the jackal. Zero slowly turned his head, and the crowd quickly went back to their business the moment their eyes met his, and this time the cheerfulness of their conversating was now a little more attentive.

Zero didn't mind this, luck was on their side for not instigating at all. He unhinged the string off the weapon, and unfolded the letter.

...

"You carry the Crimson. But can you control it?"

...

The note was written in his tongue, to his surprise. It questioned him of his authoritative prowess. Controlling Crimson? Of course! He knew it was in his blood, countlessly swinging sticks and jabbing them into the surrounding tree trunks to point of imprinting and perforating, making them leak red sap for him to drink, unless there was something missing...maybe there was a link between himself and Crimson. Maybe this could be something good for him.

He knew this had to have been from a jackal; there were even claw marks kneaded into the corners of the note. Were there other jackals leading lives similar to his? First blueberry jam, now this. Zero's day was getting even more interesting, and he flipped the last two bits of bread into his mouth before he slipped the letter into his dreads, picking up his crimson blade.

"E-excuse me sir," a waiter beckoned, trembling as he held the crazed customer's bill in one hand.

Ignoring him, the jackal twirled around, and heard their steps carefully trudging around a column. Zero rudely squirmed past and shoved through several bystanders.

The eavesdropper had already swung himself out of the entrance as a huge hand grabbed Zero's shoulder.

"Hey—!"

"—Take your hand off me," his gruff voice announced.

And before the elephant guard said another world, Zero forcefully shoved his shoulder out of their grip and latched a clawed hand around their neck, causing the large elephant to fall. The floor shook as the others gasped while Zero threatened the security guard's face with his crimson sword.

"...I should gouge you" he grunted between calloused teeth. He released their neck, swiping his clawed fingers across a tusk before seamlessly leaping off of his belly, grabbing ahold of the golden rimmed entrance as he tossed himself over it, and onto the ledge outside of the restaurant.

With one hand perched on the sill, Zero peered outwards, concentrating. In his personal horizon, a few kids were playing hopscotch, a waiter was serving a couple drinks at some other rinkydink restaurant, and someone was trying to fix those slavish mobile creatures, twisting a tool on the front of it until a spring nearly slammed into their face. Meanwhile, his nose concentrated on investigating the air, and soon enough it caught the figure's unseen scent trail within the nightly skies. He leapt, bouncing a foot off the top of a street pole, launching himself to a slanted rooftop.

The town itself was along a steep incline, with buildings shaped to compliment the terrain. A minor complaint Zero had as he thrusted himself forwards, plodding worn shoes along the shingles of a house, holding his visionary focus on the fleeting figure. Zero jumped from chimney to chimney, somersaulting over a tower of smoke-only to see the figure disappear from his peripheral view as he advanced up the rooftop. His eyes beckoned to the right-there he was! He took note of a pole extended out from the edge of the rooftop, and drove his feet into a furious sprint, running along the length of the pole, and scrunching himself on the ballpoint of it, hoisting himself across the air as he sailed past the town's flag, and onto another ramptop of where the figure still ran.

He somersaulted as he landed, grunting from the pain spotted on his shoulder from the landing while he continued his pursuit. As he saw the figure running, Zero started to think of the possible paths they may break off to. Zero scanned the ground below-several cars lined next to the curb. He looked back up, taking a gamble as he surmised they were drawing their attention towards a small alleyway, and he threw his sword horizontally just as he fell off the edge of the roof.

The evading runner dodged it, and the sword wedged itself in the crevasse between the two buildings. They kicked the sword from the gap, leaping forth with an outstretched arm, anticipating its drop after it stopped arcing, until they heard the noise of spring-a flying Zero tossed a foot into their back, causing their aerial momentum to go forward a notch-the canine grabbed his trusted weapon once more, holding it with both hands as his body was able to line itself just enough over the other enigmatic figure, bringing the blade as high as he could. He had a jackal's high, the rush making him feel powerful. He was indeed the Crimson. And then with a battle cry, he felt himself sauntering towards the ninja while gravity took them to the ground, the prey colliding into a dumpster painfully as they rolled onto the blacktop, staying still while a crimson tip was only seconds away from puncturing them _—ting!_

A foot stopped his attack.

"Huh?" Zero looked at the one who interrupted this altercation-a jackal, female at that. Her golden eyes looked at his own dumbfounded pair while she slowly lowered her leg, her steel-tipped boot reflecting the moonlight that broke upon the dense clouds. The girl stepped back, steely eyes trained on him.

All the while several other jackals scattered about rooftops on either side and fire escapes stared at him silently.

Zero didn't know what was happening, but instincts told him a fight is ready to brew, with him hunching his body low, one hand kept securely onto the handle of his sword, the other perched straight out defensively.

"It is the Crimson, held by the Scar!"

No one spoke, however. The source came from dead center, somewhere in the angular darkness in the dead end of the sloped alleyway. Zero's feet shifted a little wider.

"Together."

They all dropped to the ground, under the voice's command. They formulated into position, all in individual stances, yet signified as one through ironic disparatity. Zero strummed his fingers on his weapon, palms beginning to perfuse sweat. He gulped before emitting a bassy growl. It wasn't the heat of the battle that was scaring him, it was just that blackness ahead of him leaving him to wonder, to _dread_.

"Bite!"

A whisk of a blur shot outward, resembling untamed jaws and a large tongue sandwiched between them, hurtling towards him with weighty hands floating next to them.

Zero barely had time to think as he soared over the massive assaulter, who stopped their dive with huge palms careened into the sides of the buildings, crushing brick and asphalt alike.

"Hahaha! We finally found this sacred treasure!" the deep voice echoed while the targeted jackal was already in a deadly dance, swiping his sword in several directions, warding off deadly metal, all in the form of a kris, kunai, an axe, a lance, a hatchet, boots—and plain ol' teeth!

From the split-second encounter, Zero surmised that those fangs were worse than his!

The jackal lashed a foot to the side, rolled under a swinging lance, slammed a hatchet out of a couple palms, swept a foot-the battle was intense for him. The Moonlight guided his sight, but it wasn't enough. He felt things would've been in his favor had the moon been red tonight!

His sword was wedged between a lance, a hatchet and a kris, and Zero strained himself before he used his strength to counter them all away, leaping forwards into a four-way battle with the other three combatants.

For a second, he thought they were starting to back off, but was too busy to notice that a growing shadow was threatening him.

Zero grunted as a belly punched him back, straight into that slanted shadow within the alleyway as solid nothingness planted him into the brick wall.

With determined steps, the crazy, gigantic jackal approached him with loud breaths streaming out between those fearsome teeth and nostrils. Tugging chains rustle around his huge belly as Zero blinked and saw clearly the one that struck him down. He weakly fell onto his knees and picked up his Crimson sword, struggling to stand on one foot when the bigger canine's huge wrist caught Zero's shoulder and threw him back into the wall.

Their eyes laid a dormant shade of red, tilting in tow with their owner's head as the leader clamped his hand around Zero's waist.

The smaller one still felt the sword in his hand, but the tight grip around him was slowly making him lose feeling of his body. The huge smile in front of him got even wider, even showing his dark gums as his fixed stare glazed over Zero.

Seeing this sight made Zero scared for the first time in a while. It wasn't the fact that he couldn't feel half his body, no, that was only a part of it...it was just those red eyes. The stories he heard about creatures bearing those lookers could make one's fur stand on edge, as it was now. Provoking any type of physical actions to harm red-eyed beasts could invite scornful pain even worse than his scar brought. And while it did that, it never blinked. Zero couldn't bat an eye because he couldn't, either. He was forced to watch the suffering clawing at them.

What made matters worse was that he was unsure if the jackal was possessed or a living, breathing representation of the dark beasts. It made him shiver while his mind desperately frolicked about in his head for an answer.

The trapped renegade started to whine underneath sputtering breaths. The bigger one looked amused by this.

"Heterochromia..." he spouted out.

Every single syllable could've made Zero's body jump if it wasn't for the hand which seized most of his freedom. The two of them kept their stares at each other for a moment.

"...Don't cha see it? The _luck?_ " the leader gave an erratic glance to the special blade as drool slid off his glistening lip, feeling his foe's feeble body shake within the giant palm.

Zero witnessed the red eyes driving a connection between themselves and the sword. The leader jackal's lip was swerved across by his hand, dampening it with saliva as he continued.

"I'm cursed, too! They said I was blind to this color because it already leaked ta' my eyes. I knew this 'ticular color, _crimson_ , had to be visible somehow. And I can see it now...'you do too."

His other humongous hand shot out unexpectedly for its size, clamored into the blackness, hearing it buckle from impact. "I know ya do, Lucky." He brought his claws downwards, diagonally towards Zero's ears, through the thick wall of pitch black. The smaller one had tried his best to let his ears huddle into themselves.

The leader jackal's hands interchanged their grips, with the one above clamped onto Zero's head as his shaking became visibly apparent. Before the dominant one could utter another word, Zero brought his sword straight into his face.

It caught him.

It caught him straight between his sharp teeth as his head hung to the side, eyebrows cockily bobbing before he swung his head to the side, the airborne sword dropping itself into the hands of the others.

The giant canine slowly twirled his head back upright once more.

Zero was unceremoniously ripped from the shadowy wall, simply witnessing the jackals standing before the two, the ninja holding the weapon, blissfully showing its semi-faint sparkling.

"We have the Crimson now...it belongs to us, don't 'cha see?" he brought Zero's face to his. The giant canine's red eyes seemed to glow into Zero's own as his meaty fingers pressed into his head even more, nearing him closer to those lively eyes.

Their huge nose bounced up and down with every sniff.

"...I can taste your fear...and it tastes delish," he said the last word just as he bent down, straight into the smaller Zero's eyes.

"'Scars always do. And yours...heh, yours is the biggest one I've eva' seen!"

He brought a giant index finger to point accusingly at Zero.

"Ya see this? This's the living example of a goner!"

He released Zero from his hand like a claw machine, disposing him on the ground.

Zero blinked, looking up to see the potbellied canine towering over him, yet the Moonlight towering _him._

The fire was telling him to keep calm. You can defeat him.

The confident jackal stood back up with a growl as the leader moved forward again. His efforts were stopped by a heavy swat to his torso, forcing him to buckle down and fall on his back.

A boot stepped on his abdomen, ejecting a chestful of air out of his lungs.

"Now that we have da Crimson," the leader jackal swung his shoulders and head towards Zero's face before he continued to intimidate him.

"We get rid of you," he said casually. "Well, I do."

His giant foot taunted Zero's life, cramming weight on top of him in exchange for air.

"Whattaya gonna do, now, Lucky? Squeak as I crush the everlasting air out of you? Outta your pathetic, lil' lungs...? Speak, speak, speeeak..."

Zero's eyes were stricken with fear, and he knew it. But the more this jackal talked, the more this inner rage inside him started to boil and crack underneath that shell of fear. The bigger one started to look less like the nightly beasts, and more in lieu of one of his childhood bullies stamping their mark on him.

The leader swiped his foot back, causing Zero to slide towards him for a second before his huge hands were glued to Zero's shoulders.

"Last chance. Any last words...?"

Zero's mouth had already grew into a wide grimace along the width of his muzzle. The 'scarred' jackal's stare looked...off. Like it tampered between the bridges of frightfulness and untamed anger. It was peaking over the usual jackal's high. But the leader didn't notice it.

"Weak," the huge one's voice confidently said.

Weak.

 _Weak._

The fur on Zero's body had stood, and his mouth began to foam. The larger being, who in this split-second instance of swinging his hand down at Zero's face, took a second to look down and notice, and that was when Zero bore his fangs.

Someone screamed, and the other did too as the ground shook several times.

It rocked the world of several sleepers, with their dreary eyes peeping through their windows, only to see the process unfold before their very eyes.

The group of six other jackals had stayed in consolidated silence, but their faces told a different story, and their reactions contorted to the motions unbounding in front of them. But they stayed quiet, even after the grounded storm had been settled. It was a moral code worked into their subconscious as being apart of a band of thieves.

The night was quiet again, but in this little pocket of town, it was not a pleasant sight.

Animated breaths had cooled down into a milder pattern, accommodating to the quiet body of fear of which surrounded them.

Slowly, the hesitant ninja lunged his arms forward with a bowing head, heeding forth his Crimson sword.

* * *

 **Inf.'s blue jelly line was so bad I had to just jam it inside the beginning of the ch.**

 **This chapter was pretty long already when I first started writing it, and I didn't realize til publishing the story that this is the LONGEST chapter of them all. Goddang, so much text.**


	4. Family

One way or another, word of mouth had been gradually spreading about their presence for the past year or so. A tightly-knit group of seven. Many foes were weak oppositions to the mercenaries, even when the pack was separated they were durable enough to handle themselves. They were a crooked lot, having no qualms in doing questionable tasks that lent them gold rings, and occasionally the familiar brass variant that other jackals would usually possess. They stole possessions of others and devastatingly raided places with no discrimination, and tossed all opposers out of their way. Some rumored that the leader was the worst of them all; some said that Zero defeated the former leader in a fight, and others claimed that the former leader even died in battle. Some said that those who tried intruding their small base of operations lead to said intruders to never come back out. Others spoke of how the utterance of the word 'weak' around them, especially the leader himself, no matter the context of that homonym, would invoke a punishment that not many could safely say they came back in one piece from. All-in-all, they were a force to be reckoned _by_ , not with.

Currently, they weren't doing anything but relaxing in Splash Canyon, the acreage littered with leaves submissive to the Autumn weather as they flowed airy rivers among the blackwaters channeling underneath them. Although the skies were clear, it was significantly chilly today. Luckily for the Jackal Squad, the people that were resided in the hut had plenty of bedding and firewood to last them for several weeks.

The entrance was divoted by the siblinghood of claw marks and sword slices, but nothing that could stop anyone's ability to walk through it. Inside, the wooden floor weightlifted all of their newfangled belongings, which had taken up quite the vertical space as well. Sitting underneath and within the cupboard was an overstocked pile of rings, a great deal of them staying put inside a huge pot, which too was also a tad diminutive for the family of currency that resided in that spot of the hut. Some of them were inside capsules, huddled around the motherly cauldron. Neighboring them was a conglomerate of statues both new and antique, with a few damaged during the jackals' hasty migration, or simply by their own carelessness. Strangely, some of them noted the fact that all of the two-armed candles were sliced in half, the cuts Ganido suspected were by Zero's blade. The underside of a bunk bed was elevated by a pile of wedged firewood, which actually made it strangely comfier to the muscledog of the group. A couple other beds sat along the curved wall, one of them untidied. Sitting opposite to the fireplace was a dart board, its entertainment factor subsided by the countless scratches and stabbings undoubtedly caused by the subdued weaponry wedged into it. Other knick-knacks were placed about in the hut, from a locket, to a small chest of jewelry, to even the more modern jewels such as a radio, to which a few old-fashioned jackals were in awe by.

At the round table, the group of mercenaries sat around, in the middle of their game. A gruff jackal was gnawing on a loaf of bread as the crumbs seasoned his fur. A bottle of pop sat near the youngest of the bunch, red cap settled on his head and bandages wrapped around his extremities. Another one sat with his chair backwards, drumming his fingers on the wood, while the other one, Ganido, distinguished by a red scarf, traced his eyes on the motions of their leader, Zero. He loosened a piece off the bizarre shape of unorthodox puzzle pieces, the radio playing nu metal had been his concentration's backbone much to everyone else's dismay, although they let their commander play what he wanted as it quietly blared through the radio nearby. The sole canine holding his weapon sucked his teeth as he saw Zero's success, now returning his glare back to the youngest of the group, who was next in the rotation of players.

"...This's gonna be the last time we let Aider choose something," Slash proclaimed with a dagger-eyed glare.

"Crabby again?" Aider instigated. "It's only the third time in a row you've lost—"

Aider countered his kris with his hatchet. Slash's belly nearly touched the tapered tip of the tower of shapes as he struggled against the younger jackal's hatchet with a growl.

"We can change that—"

"Boys! What's the meaning of this? We're playing a game here, not free sparring!" Ace shouted. He returned to his chair, nodding to Zero.

Their weapons parted.

"I'm sorry, it's just..." Aider trailed off as he looked at the glaring Slash with a cocky smirk.

"Yeah," the latter arrogantly nodded with a hand hoisted on his chin.

The muscledog Leash, with his huge fingers, was surprisingly meticulous when it came to playing Scattera. His sharp claws pricked the sides of one tetrahedron stuck somewhere in the abdomen of the body of complex shapes, and gingerly drew out the convex object, his tongue licking his top lip so attentively it almost dug its tip into his nostril. Finally, it was released, with little resistance.

He croaked a snicker before Slash piped up with a murmur.

"Heh, you're so dainty with that."

"Wanna dainty beheading?" Leash retorted, twirling the puzzle piece in his fingers.

"Who's turn is it?" Ace asked.

"Gani." Their heads spun to face the girl of the group distanced from them; sitting alone, knee bandaged, gaze concentrated on the toe-end of her boot idling on her lap while she was using a sharpening tool to return the alacrity to her weaponry.

"How in the...how did you know—?"

"Because you guys go through turns in the same order. It's in the rules, you know..." Fleeter said as she vigorously scraped metal upon metal.

"Dagh, how dumb of me..." Ace sputtered quietly.

"We've been playing this for the past hour or so!" Slash responded.

"The medicine's been having my mind all screwy."

"Excuses!" Aider obnoxiously retorted.

"Tick tock, tick tock, c'mon Ganido. Choose the seed of your demise," Leash goaded the quiet canine, whose hand nearly stayed frozen in front of the shapes.

Aider started drinking a bottle of root beer.

"That was mine..." Leash murmured.

Aider spat backwash right into the bottle, some of it moistening his glove.

"...Gottem'."

The bandaged jackal shook his head, leaning his bottle to Leash. "Boy, if you weren't my friend..."

Ganido poised his fingers on his piece for the slightest second before swiftly removing it, like he always did. A section of the shape tumbled down with the motion, however.

"Oh, and Gani's out of the game!" Aider said as they clapped.

Ganido shrugged. "To my soup," he said.

"Commander Zero, s'your turn" Leash said as he perched his sneaker against the ridge of the table, leaning his weight on his chair.

A perturbed Ace spoke up on the matter.

"Why are you leaning back? That's cheating..."

"So is having a huge sword. Ya got claws, y'know," he said, dropping his foot back on the floor. He sat back quietly as he watched his commander choosing a piece from the very bottom.

Aider clapped his hands and rubbed them while Slash's eyes were glued to the bottom of puzzle pieces.

Zero pulled one out, the shape barely moving...until the piece was dislodged halfway, and the whole thing collapsed.

They clapped.

"Aw man, Commander's out!" Aider announced. He patted Zero's back. "You've been in it for a long time, too. 'Maybe next time..."

"Probably," Zero shrugged.

"Back to you, Aider," Slash said while their leader left the table.

"Okay, let us see..." he made his fingers dance as he examined the remaining, interlocked pieces. He went to grab one to the side.

"Oops—" the whole cluster of shapes exploded into the air, "—my bad."

Slash's kris had been uprooted through the table, and he brought his arm back with an apathetic glare as he sat back in his chair.

The action nearly costed Aider an eye as one of the pieces slammed into his forehead.

"Ow...what's your problem?!"

"What're you complaining for? You got the beans for that, right?"

"Now you-"

"Gentlemen, let's not cut our throats just yet!" Ace intercepted. "In fact, let's have a show. We like seeing things like that, ey? Slash here could show us that circus trick he wanted to do."

"Slash? You mean _Shanker_ , right?"

"...My apologizes."

"'Old Timer's came early," Leash added.

Ace swung his lance across from the dart board, nearly skirting across the muscledog's chin. The former continued to play dumb and be absentminded about it.

He tossed his sword to Shanker, who grabbed it in the air before stomping onto the table.

"I hope you get cut in half..." Aider challenged with a smirk.

"What's that I smell?" Slash mimicked Ace's accent. "Salt—oh I mean white dirt? I thought Gani used it all up."

The two of them chuckled as Ace and Leash sat on their chairs, trading stares.

Sparks were spat into the hungry flames seated on the stationary firewood.

Zero stood beside Ganido, who slurped a spoonful of soup into his mouth.

"'Mind if I join you?" Zero asked. Ganido slid over while his commander sat next to him.

The jackal removed his gloves, raising his bare palms to the fire to let the heat mingle with them for a moment before gently placing his hands on his knees, staring at the flickering flame.

Ganido was still ensconced by his meal.

"I'm betting Aider's money that he can insert your whole sword," Leash bragged to Ace.

"Hey!" the younger one shouted.

Already having her fair share of entertainment watching the buffoons, Fleeter looked to the side to see the two silent jackals.

"You can thank me later."

Zero's ear perked up.

"Grazo," Ganido thanked her in his native lingo as the commander eyed Fleeter, while she held up a piece of metal and her boot.

"Heh, thank you" he snickered before he rested his eyes on the glowing enchantment again. "How's the knee?"

"It still bends. Aider tried his best, he's still just a kid," Fleeter said.

"Lost his bag of beans again?"

"Yeah. Still just a kid."

"Reasonable."

The conversation went silent again. Ganido gulped down some more of his precious soup. She always knew Ganido would be like this, it was how he was raised in his clan. But she hadn't known Zero as long. She was curious for a long while, and wanted to peek inside his psyche.

"Feeling okay, commander?"

"As fine as I can be."

"...Um, I just wanna ask...why do you stay in front of fires all the time? Even during the Summer? I see you just baking like a potato...and you sit in front of 'em like a statue."

"The fire keeps me company."

"That's what you always say! Look around you, you have plenty of others to talk to."

"You just..."

"...don't understand? Well, I'd like to. If it's something I can't find a solution to, I'm hard-pressed to find out...if you don't mind."

Zero sighed.

Ganido brought his bowl near the fire again.

"You ever had something that you cherished the most?" the commander asked.

"My mother's jewelry..."

"Mm-hmm... Now, have you ever talked to them?"

"Um..." Zero was always the one to keep a straight face when asking such odd questions. "In fact, yeah, I do."

"Now why?"

"Because I feel if I talk to them...my mother can hear me. She once told me she never had a faulty moment with her ears."

Zero nodded as he smiled.

"It's funny; I do talk to the fire, but you don't see my mouth moving. It's more of an eye-to-eye thing, y'see. Life's flung a lot of flak at me when I was a little boy." His voice soon crept to a murmur as he continued. "In my village, everybody isolated me. There were moments where someone paid attention; they were touching, very touching. The feeling that you were dazed as someone kept slamming their foot into your back as others stood watching, and laughing." At first, Fleeter thought he was trying to humor them, until she witnessed him nonchalantly wiping a tear from his eye. "And you cry for help, with them knowing you were in trouble...they _heard_ you whine...and did nothing." Things went silent for a painful minute.

Zero's eyes watched the fire, and a bit of the depression was washed away from him, proven by his voice returning to a moderate level once more. "But when I was alone, all of my senses were observing the world around me. The way I think and see things, it's...it's something I can't get off my back. I'm just...different, even after the fact of being around you guys. Sometimes you all find ways to keep me joyed, even outside of our missions. Although I appreciate your company, I realize that the fire's what _really_ keeps my mind collected. The embers, the sparks, the glow, the gracious warmth...they all make up one, beautiful thing. They way they destroy everything is something to see, too...almost like me. The everyday life I wanted was burnt down, and out of it came the jackal I am today. A leader you all look up to...which I appreciate. Even after what I've done," he whispered the last sentence, eyes shying away to the side for a moment. Fleeter placed the tool on a nearby dresser before she spoke.

"No, Zero. It's alright... I understand. We love you as our leader—more than the other one."

Zero batted an eye to her. Maybe she shouldn't have brought that up, but Fleeter laced her boot on the arm of the chair anyway and continued. The fire always made her leader appear to seem less ticked-off.

"We all do, from the bottom of our hearts." She stood up, taking a few slow steps toward him. "We may not lookit, but we indeed _feel_ safer around you. It was hard trying to live everyday with someone lookin' like they're ready to eat you,"she shuddered at the thought.

Ganido nodded.

"Agreed. And you don't force me to toss the white dirt into the flames to spite me."

That made the other two chuckle.

"I didn't want to explain this," Zero said. "But I knew the truth had to be spilled someday. Felt good," he brightened. "Thank you for listening. You too, Ganido," he said as he stood up, refitting his gloves before patting him on the shoulder. "Why don't we join the others? It's always nice to have a bit of entertainment," Zero goaded Fleeter and Ganido to the daftness of Aider juggling their weapons, with his hat over his face. "After all, we need all the fun we can get. I've already gotten in touch with a client. Big day tomorrow for the start of our venture for some big cash. A ringsack of a million in gold."

A loud cacophony of weapons hit the dull floor and table, along with a bottle of spilt soda all over Leash's shoe, but the mental endorphins of the million-mark cash kept him from being angry. Aider flipped the cap back on his forehead, plopping himself on the tabletop. He, along with the others were adamantly curious to whatever else their leader had to say.

"'You serious? ...What's worth the jackpot?" she asked with interest.

"The Fatman's weapons."

* * *

 **Fun fact: This chapter was added VERY LATE during this story's development. I was gonna upload the full story a few weeks back, but I delayed it since I thought it'll be nice to kno how Inf. & his buddies are doing outside of mercenary duty. Also, more angst. Gotta have something against the other Ultimate!**


	5. Potential

Today, they looked forward to gaining their next bounty—Eggman's weaponry. Never have they ever achieved a feat like this before, and they were enthused by it, Zero especially. He was already tired of the almost nauseatingly day-to-day routine he lived-training the team, doing what the client ordered, and taking names. Nowadays there was no challenge, no heavy-hitter that truly made him feel strong. Not even the authorities posed much of a threat more than a nuisance. Was this a sign that the world was telling him? Was he worthy of living the rich life that lacked the entertainment that should have came with it? Was he the catalyst for that reason? Were these clients letting them take on these weaklings on purpose? Had they been aware, influenced by his charm that now his Jackal Squad was only able to get almost mundane excursions? There goes the never-ending river of questions crowding his mind again. The rings never really meant anything to him other than a nice, rivulating target whenever he struck a single ring into it with a perfect, dead-on strike back at their homebase. He craved for physical power. However, today looked like this may very well be it. He forgotten how many times he told that to himself.

Bearing matching attire of ebony, claw-tipped gloves and tipped, hi-top sneakers, Zero and his unit ran across the dusty plains amidst the bright Sun splayed across miles of dry lands which had cursed the Green Hill Zone for some time. Somewhere in the wavering heatwaves lied a huge pyramid that poked itself between the lower valleys of hills.

"There it is, the base of the Eggman" Ganido informed.

Zero's eyes dedicated their attention towards their end point, finally visible. A smile of satisfaction ran along the side of his muzzle before he spoke.

"Remember, everyone! We get what we came for and go. And if there's too much damage on these machines, much less money on our hands. Understood?"

"Yessir," the other six say in unison.

Hundreds of yards from the entrance, the guardbots slowly panned their semi-circled heads around the area, keeping everything in check.

Suddenly, servos are severed-optics poised with kunais—shingles of metallic shells abandoning the dead bodies. The whirring hum of the last of them careened into a shimmering, low pitch, straight into silence.

Zero valiantly brandished his sword straightforward.

"Jackal Squad! Move in for the kill! Raid the base!"

His pack finished mutilating the last of the guardbots, and rushed forth, with him following suite.

Suddenly, an overflow of orange, blue-eyed and smiling badniks splurged from the metal containment doors.

"This is nothing!" Zero boasted with an aggressive swing of his sword, slicing through several of them before leaping over several energy shots. To the others, he always seemed to be more talkative whenever they dealt with battles like these. Jackal's high always takes over even the most taciturn canine.

Ganido trudged through the heap of Egg Pawns and hopped on the head of one, kicking off a nearby rock wall and leaping high into the air, delivering a wave of shiruken into the unfortunate bots, yellow sparks dancing around the perimeter of the perforation and the intrusive weaponry.

Shanker went to town on several Egg Pawns, jamming the curvy blade into their bellies before yanking it out, taking some circuitry out with it. He carved deep, singular gashes into them, severing a head, slicing through a chest and an arm. He was into it, evidenced by his exuberant cries. Then he repeatedly shived one in their bulbous body. An Egg Pawn caught wind of the canine and proceeded to ready its weapon.

The Egg Pawn unleashed a series of shots, but then a large crimson sword came in the nick of time, its form being spun around at an indescribable speed, deflecting all of the bullets as Zero lunged toward the thing once it stopped due to weapon overheatage. Zero jutted the curved front end of his weapon deep into the crevasse that connected its 'face' and belly, cutting right through the orange armor.

"Don't get too caught up in your moment, Shanker!" he said before rushing off.

Aider jumped off the belly of a downed badnik and performed a double spin kick that knocked two badniks off their feet. He narrowly dodged an energy shot by spinning over it, and launching his dark-iron hatchet right into its 'face', directly between the eyes.

A severed half of another Egg Pawn flew past him, the wind from the flying body almost blowing Aider's red cap off his head.

Ace lent a shrug to the eying Aider before tossing himself over a small pile of badniks, slashing multiple times with his long gaunt during the course of his sideways somersault, destroying several badniks laying in his wake. For a moment they stood still, until the uneven top-halves slid off and banked into the ground.

Fleeter swung her foot around, knifelike air-swipes extending the reach of her nimble kicks, which sliced off appendages of several badniks, one of them firing at her with its remaining arm just before she curled up into a ball and out into a fierce double-footed strike into its face in response, crushing its optic servos and colliding its body into a few others. She tossed a sweep into one, scissoring its ankle joints apart before leaping over it, ducking a shot as she slid towards several of them, buckling their stubby knees. Something took ahold of a few handicapped badniks-huge, extra-sharp claws, to be exact.

Leash lashed out, shaving off armor after armor, processor after wire into the surrounding Pawns. Soon, he dug a hand into the body of one and used it as a makeshift hammer, slamming the bulbous body into several others with maniacal ease, their bodies compressed and crumpled with every ferocious strike. Finally, he lifted his foot on the robot and kicked it hard, releasing the metallic thing from his hand. He saw his tattered glove, including a few scratches grazing his hand, but they're something he could shrug off.

Something small tapped his head. He caught it in his palm; a bean. He looked up to see Aider giving him a thumbs-up, spinning his hatchet with the other hand.

Ace was about to give another Pawn his wrath when a lucky energy blast shot the sword from his hand.

"Ace!"

Zero jumped into the air, twirling his body around while holding his blade straight out, using the inertia and his alike to collect the airborne lancer in the curvature of his red blade, and letting it slide itself from Zero's weapon. The lance, now twirling in a circular motion, was caught by Ace as he and Zero alike sliced simultaneously in spectacular fashion, gutting a several Pawns in their path.

Zero took a glance at his fellow swordsman's cauterized glove. Ace nodded to his leader. He caught a bean thrown from the side, as Aider nodded to him.

"I'm fine, medic!" Ace shouted.

"Whatever!" the other jackal responded.

By chance Zero just so happened to spot Fatman, wicked ginger 'stache bouncing jubilantly as he held the purple gem in his hand, its flashing glow corresponding to the spawning of endless Pawns.

Zero rushed forwards.

"Take care of the robots! I'll handle the Fatman!" he swerved his weapon in a curve, making quick work of several oncoming Pawns.

Gaining enough speed, he leapt high into the air, both hands grasped tightly on the hilt of his curved blade.

With a scream he alerted Eggman at the last second, who instinctively reached out in despair...with the hand holding the very gem that gave him this power.

"Nooooo—!" Eggman screamed.

But Zero's blade had struck the gem.

The jackal landed on top of the Eggmobile, making it bob. Eggman was still alive, at circumstance's mercy. His attention drew his eyes up, however. The sky withheld a shade of auburn-gold, the environment around them desolate and dusty, with towers of abandoned facilities, strung in webs of useless wiring. Zero could taste the lack of humidity in the barren air, feel particles of dust trickling around his body, yet could see the 'world' around them flickering, like a poor television transmission.

"What the...?" he uttered, dumbfounded. And so did his comrades, including their robotic foes. In the back of his mind, something made Zero adore this unpleasant sight, with the hint of a bloodlust smirk curving his speechless mouth.

Reality hit the canine once more by the unexpected shove of Fatman's hand, knocking him off of the machine. He grimaced, falling onto the dirt, and looked back at Eggman with an annoyed stare, the sky bright and blue once more.

"Oh hohohoho!" the jolly scientist laughed as more Egg Pawns huddled close around the two. The jackal's hand started to ache with every heated pump his heart made as he saw he was on the losing side of things. "Now then, how about a little bargain?"

All of the surrounding badniks raised their weapons at Zero's head.

"You are an interesting guy, right? You and your lackeys look formidable. What are you, mercenaries? Surely this was only done for monetary gain, right, or am I right?"

Zero looked away with a sour look. Eggman crept his obese body to the glass visor on his hovering Eggcraft, blocking out the Sun's blazing glare.

"Who was your client—actually, it doesn't matter. I know that they clearly couldn't and wouldn't pay you all as much as I'm able to."

The scientist lent Zero a hand. What made jackal's skin crawl was how he was still able to see that huge, toothy grin shine in correspondence to those beady teashades contrasting the large silhouetted man, underneath the glistening flare above them. Along with the wide mustache expanding from either sides of his face, in which he resembled a demented walrus.

"How about I hire you to lead my forces? I'll pay you triple—no, make it _septuple_ , all seven of you, and together, we'll take over the world. Otherwise..."

A echoing _chic-chak_ sounded around the jackals.

"So, is it a done deal?" Eggman tilted his head slightly.

"Boss!" Shanker spoke up. "Ya better get these guys offa' me and let us get what we came for and go!"

In spite of the threat, the scientist's proposal made Zero's headache wilt away a slight. Unlike the last time, here he was given a chance. The Zero jackal commander pensively twirled the sword in his hand, bringing the curved thing dangerously close to his face while he quietly snickered.

"Think about what you're doing, Zero!" Fleeter yelled out as her leader stood up once more with Eggman's help. "Don't be tempted by him. We'll be fine on our own!"

Zero glanced at her before he turned his attention elsewhere, looking up at the clouds. "Interesting," the jackal slowly plodded back and forth. "Interesting," he reiterated, pointing his jagged weapon at Eggman.

He raised his unarmed hand, caressing his palm with his fingers momentarily as he spoke aloud.

"Y'know, a scumbag tried to sway me once...it won't happen twice. S'different, now. This right here, is a recognized man..." he pointed at the bulbous doctor's direction again, whose brow was evidently entertained by this compliment.

"So...is that a 'yes'?" The Fatman crossed his hands while he tapped his index fingers together.

Zero's faced could not hide the fact that this was indeed true. And in the split-second of this facial gesture, Ganido scoffed.

"Foolish."

Zero's ear twitched, signifying he heard the comment. The ninja's eyes widened, afraid that he might get the cutthroat treatment. His leader turned around, staring right at him.

"I am a fool? You've got it all wrong. This is the smart thing to do."

"What?!" Shanker shouted in disbelief.

"We could get paid septuple, get protection from the authorities with his robots. This is our chance to soar, our jackpot, liked what we've always dreamed! I could show you all a few pointers on leadership, to serve his forces under your every whim."

"Zero—"

"You want to throw it all down the drain?" He asked the concerned Fleeter. "Don't think about morals when we haven't thought much of them up 'til now! And this isn't a trap" he told Aider, as he heard the medic's remark. "Because if it were, I wouldn't be standing right here, given freedom to talk as much as I please."

"Imagine your reward if you defeat my arch-nemesis, Sonic the Hedgehog! This is definitely a thing not worth being blasted point-blank in the head if you deny this good fortune, hmm?" Eggman incited.

"Yes, exactly! Who wouldn't turn down the opportunity to take down the blue blur himself? I know I wouldn't, neither you guys either," he motioned gestures to Shanker and Aider. "I know I haven't talked much about that blue hedgehog 'til now, but it always irks me how he smiles so much, in front all the misfortunes that happened around the world. We're all a piece of the rotten pie, no doubt. 'Just lucky we've came across each other. But if I went face-to-face with Sonic...well, sometimes I dreamt of an era where the only place he'd have his ugly mug is his head on a wall, for display."

He paused. Knowing their commander, his comrades knew he was not bluffing when it came to deeds.

That last statement was unsettling for Eggman, but he continued to keep a strong smirk hidden underneath his bushy 'stache.

"...Let's face it—If anyone of us was given a bounty to kill Sonic, you would do it in the matter of a pindrop," he stabbed the edge of the sword into the ground. "The rewards would be so ridiculous, I tell you. Guarantee."

He paused a beat. Shanker had a contemplating nod, Fleeter gave him an uncertain stare, and Aider had a reveling smile. The others were in a bit of shared disbelief.

"You can agree to disagree," Zero said, twirling his blade back upright, examining its sharpness. "But I've made my decision." He promptly stabbed his weapon into the ground as its makeshift sheath, and strode over to the bulbous man, proudly shaking his hand. "Let's do it, Doctor!" he proclaimed with extra excitement. "I'll help you change this world. And I hope my friends won't dare to meet an early visit at death's door once you release them."

"As do I." Eggman snapped his fingers, and the clutches of the Pawns were vanquished at his command, with all of canines liberated from their stubby fingers.

Zero scanned his fellow mercenaries, and his frown parted into that smile once again. It was that specific smile he carried, and nine times of ten, it meant good will towards his crew. He approached his sword and they all circled around each other, lifting their weapons simultaneously.

"We strike until the moon's light is no more bright!" Zero shouted.

* * *

 **I ain't gonna lie, I'm still a bit unsatisfied with this chapter. I think I redid the dialogue where Inf. decides to help out Eggman at least 3-4 times before I got it to a point where I was ok with it.**


	6. Ultimate

The lights, however repetitive they may be in their visual rhythm of shifting colors of reds and blues, greens and pinks, were so mesmerizing to the eye. It was almost like a harmony between the ancient and modern times, with the abundance of plant life welcoming anyone adventurous enough to traverse through itself and the warm, shallow waters riding on the scalp of dirt paths rummaging throughout the body of palm trees, all fully illuminated by the brilliant neon glitter, wrapped and coiled around bodies of trees and rocks, and the ancient ruins of a deceased civilization. It was almost as though the technology managed to breathe new life into the drab reds of the old buildings.

Fleeter was astonished by Mystic Jungle's wondrous sight, lucky to be a part of the chosen squad unit to uphold security here. She sat on the sturdy edge of an aged railing, tapping her fingers on her elbows with her arms crossed, looking around. She was wrong all along; the doctor actually offered her and the crew what he said after raiding Gigalopolis Zone for its fair share of titanium. And because of their efforts, within the thickest part of the forest, development of the doctor's secret weapon was underway right now. Even though she was getting paid septuple, it came at the cost of some action. Every once in a while she saw an oddball moment of a couple Motobugs fighting each other over a Caterkiller, to an Egg Pawn tripping over its own two mechanical left feet as its other robotic associates chuckled. It was weird that she was helping the very things she was set out to destroy. The journey itself to Eggman's much smaller base was quite a ways to go before they finally reached it. Despite all that, she would—

"Squad Jackal! Squad Jackal, this is Eggman! The intruder Shadow is attempting to overthrow Mystic Jungle! Your captain has terminated his escort mission and is immediately returning to base! In the meantime, get rid of him!" The static burped the message to silence.

Fleeter stood up, canine ears aptly searching around, sniffs wiggling into her nose. She leapt off the railing, straight into the water. The only thing that displeased her about this place was how it made your shoes wet, but she bet the corrosion on her shoes probably amounts to nothing.

A little less than a mile away, red-rimmed skates swerved along the ground, causing the dirt to crack under the aura of heat surrounding the thrusters that fireplaned Shadow a couple centimeters from the ground.

Nothing was on his mind, just the mission. Although he did note how Eggman decided to get assistance from animals all of a sudden. Last time that happened, it was with him and Rouge. However, all that mattered right now was to infiltrate the base and find any leads to disrupt Eggman's upcoming dictatorship.

He leaned himself forward, pouring more energy into his skates as they correspond to his physical work and speed, thrusting him across the grounds even faster. He approached a shuttle loop. Using his momentum, he skirted along the curvature of the formation before gravity brought him back down once more. He went up along an incline afterward, and not too long after did he have his sights set on the Mystic Jungle base entrance half a mile away. For him, a large parabola of a hill should suffice. He concentrated on building up enough speed, and went down the curved decline of the hill in a tight somersault, spinning effortlessly upwards, launching his body straight into the air. Perfect.

Nonchalantly, he spread his arms like wings, feeling the gravity rushing him downwards yet again before he spun himself into a drop kick, landing on the fat pillar lying below, the force fracturing its surface slightly.

Shadow stared ahead; he saw a lone jackal.

"Hmph."

He jumped off the pillar, and with a splash did he continue to approach her, ignoring the water coating his fur as he rushed his body into a small leap, a speeding foot sprung forwards. She sidestepped, and Shadow skidded around to a stop, steam rushing away from his feet as the then-calm water shifted uncomfortably to its new inhabitant.

"'Shadow,' isn't it?" Fleeter asked. "You got some nerve calling yourself the 'Ultimate Lifeform'. I can smell through your cockiness right now; can tell you that you've overestimated yourself."

"Where is this conversation going?" the ebony hedgehog asked, seemingly more inclined to swatting droplets of water off his glove.

Shadow instantly jerked his shoulder to the side as several shiruken sliced past him, cutting into the formless mass.

Out of the shadows, the rest of the group appeared all around their target.

Shadow peered over his shoulder, and quickly scanned to see the ring of canines that emerged around, ready to take him down.

"To ask of you of one thing—do you live your title?" she said as she prepared to get into her fighting stance.

Fleeter chopped through the air twice with her powerful legs, each scything wave cutting close to Shadow, who backflipped and ducked underneath the thin, deadly weight of Ace's lance attempting to halve him from behind. To his side, he dodged each of Aider's slices, parrying the final slice with his inhibitor ring and backhanding the side of the jackal's head. He spotted from the corner of his eye Leash's rushing mass leaping off the wall as he bashed a shoulder into Ganido right before he flipped over the claw-bearer, perfectly in tune with a leaping Shanker colliding into Shadow, with the two falling into the water. Shanker tried to push his kris straight into Shadow's face, but the downed hedgehog collided his knee into the foe's belly and pushed him off his body. Leash pounced on him again, but Shadow leapt onto his feet and gave him a headbutt to the face within a flash, the rest of the mercenaries barely getting out of the way as the reversed momentum knocked him back several yards, causing several bumps in the submerged dirt path. Ace had flipped over him mid-tumble, slicing at Shadow, who swerved himself side-to-side, simultaneously with Fleeter attempting to do same, only to have their respective metal weapons sharpening against each other.

Shadow sicked his wrists out at their necks, stunning them both, but Ganido grabbed him from behind and jumped into the air, flipping the two of them into the Izuna Drop. Shadow wrestled himself out his grasp, and landed the drop on the ninja, crushing the air out his lungs with his knees pressing hard on his chest. Shadow jumped off of Ganido once Shanker tossed a fist at his face, and Shanker tried again with an elbow jab leading into a palm strike and then a quick punch-punch into a knife flip, and finally into a handle-strike, with Shadow swiftly dodging every single attempted hit in this rather-elaborate combo. The two of them immediately yanked themselves away from an airborne hatchet, with Shanker's surprise stab cut short by Shadow's crossed wrists. Within a second of Shadow's counter, Fleeter knocked back the huge hatchet with a steel-tipped boot, and Shanker ducked and worked his way back up with a few swipes of his melee weapon right after, the last failed stab coinciding with Aider ricocheting his own hatchet right back at Shadow, who dropped into a somersault, dodging Fleeter's snapback strike on the weapon, which had planted itself into the mud with a reactionary wiggle upon impact.

Shadow spun back up with a harsh kick at the hatchet, with it flung right at Shanker who evaded before it sliced his legs open. The action was so fast for them to the point where Shadow had already kicked a foot off of Fleeter's shoulder and performed a double-kick maneuver, the first foot slamming into its Kris holder and the other into the jackal medic, sweeping them both off their feet.

The masterful kicker met her match as Shadow dodged an overhead kick, feeling the alacrity of the attack cutting the air and making the fur on his arm part before he gave her a rapid one-two maneuver, quickly jabbing her in the gut and on the shoulder, the sheer strength of the strikes making her yelp as she fell with a splash.

The scattered water had seemingly spawned a sickle longing for his chest, a _shwinging_ noise rung through his ears as he hopped back, with the weapon spinning a full revolution before it was caught by the hand of Ganido, who stood in a ready stance, eyes glared at his foe.

Careful steps in the mud inched him closer, with Shadow vigilantly easing him near as well. Shadow teased with a fast leg raise, putting it back down with a slight smile before he rolled to the side just as a lance struck down into the ground. Once Shadow was right-side up did he dodge another threatening slash of the sickle, rolling in the waters as Ace tried another swipe with his sword, jabbing the blunt end of it at him several times with Shadow attentively dodging each stab as his ears kept watch of the sickle's ring—he heard the weapon assailing—shoved a wrist into the chain, which wrapped itself around his wrist—which is exactly what the hedgehog wanted.

Within the blink of an eye, he yanked his arm forcefully as he flipped over Ace's sword, careening his skates into the swordbearer's face—the chain's noise buckling closer as the chain itself had entangled into a mess—Shadow jumped up, feeling his weight rotate as he launched a foot into Ganido's chest once his axis was directly upside-down, making the poor jackal release his hold on the weapon, and right into a brick railing.

Shadow brought a foot down on the wooden handle, shattering the wood into fragments.

Aider had dropped a bean into Fleeter's mouth, who chewed it in two bites. They nodded at each other before they helped one another up, along with a healed Shanker standing alongside his other two comrades.

In front of them was the lone warrior, carrying a stolen lance in one hand, a wrapped chain on the other arm.

Fleeter jumped to a pillar and hurdled off of it—Aider ran towards him and lead his feet into a slide—Shanker flung himself into the air, both buff arms held over his ears with his kris held tight in his hands. All of this happening simultaneously, but Shadow didn't even shuffle nor traveled his gaze an inch.

As the trio prepared to bombard their enemy, a blue flash caused the chain and sword to fell fall into the water without hesitance.

Fleeter landed an accidental hit into the back of Shanker's head, who toppled over Aider. Both of them were now down for the count as she stood, peering around the area. The only one still standing—a flash of energy took place from above.

She promptly knew who it was, and sliced her foot upwards at Shadow, who somersaulted at the same time, catching the agile mercenary between his ankles, slamming her face-first into the water.

Shadow looked up to see Aider rising once more. The bandaged jackal turned around, but it was too late. He went unconscious, unaware of the fact that he was promptly served a brisk strike to the head, the utter force leading him to do a headstand in the wet surface.

Leash sprung once more from behind, but Shadow grabbed him single-handedly from the air and slammed him into the watery surface, flat out laying a flurry of powerful punches until several of his front teeth fly out. With little resistance, Shadow picked him off the ground, with a battle cry he tossed the largest canine of them all into a thick column, the structure bending inwards in crumbling fashion.

As the last of the bricks splash into the water, Shadow noticed the sploshing noises of another a good distance away from him. He turned around, witnessing a desperate Shanker, with a huge lump on the back of his head, looking around for his weapon. Slowly, Shadow treaded himself to the lone canine, whose anxious whimpering got louder with every progressive step, and as Shadow inched closer did Shanker's eyes grew larger.

The hedgehog stood right in front of Shanker, who simply peered upward like a scared child.

"Boo."

Shanker yelped and turned his head around, trying to make a quick escape, and collided headfirst into an olden pillar, knocking himself unconscious.

The Ultimate Lifeform lightly shook his head in amusement in light of the canine's untimely 'demise.' He breathed out through his nostrils as he rolled a wrist.

"'Live up to your title,' huh?" Shadow parroted.

He pushed a button on the communicator laced around a glove cuff.

"I'm done with them."

"...Nice of you to say 'hi', Shadow," Rogue spoke through the communicator. "And who's 'them?'"

"Squad Jackal," he plainly responded. "They were nothing significant. I'm heading further within Mystic Jungle. I'll update you when I discover anything."

"Wait a minute, Shadow...you didn't—"

"No." He plainly responded. "At best, a broken nose. At worst, a broken collarbone" Shadow told her as he scanned the comatose group.

Rouge sighed.

"Trust me," he said. But he lied; the hedgehog knew somebody's arm had to be snapped during the scuffle.

"From what it sounds like, I can't say you killed anyone." She giggled. "Good going, Shadie. Keep doing what you're doing," she said enthusiastically.

"Right" he clicked off the button with a headshake. Rouge always found a way to slip that stupid nickname into their conversations. Only a matter of time before she taunted his pride with another sobriquet, but pushing those thoughts aside, Shadow made a quick scan of the area before jetting off into Eggman's tropical base.

Several minutes later, a sound emitted from their wristwatches, countered by a couple, quiet moans soonafter.

"—ackal. Squad Jackal, this is Eggman. Has Shadow been taken care of? Hello, this is Eggman. Hello? Hello?!" Audible clanking noises generated out of frustration sounded through their communicators.

A pair of hi-tops entered the scene, slowing down to a full stop. Silently gushing with fury, hand cramping up in accordance, Zero gradually strode through the aftermath. Absolutely every member of his Squad had been brought down by Shadow's wrath.

He was too ashamed to give Eggman a response.

With a death-grip coiled around the crimson hilt of his blade, Zero was deadset on eliminating this formidable, _strong_ opponent.

* * *

 **Bruh this part of the story was so fun to write!**

 **Thought it would be nice to have a change of pace, seeing what went down before the Ultimate Life had fun on them slides.**

 **Wanna hear what I was listening to while I made this? Here u go: watch?v=HEa3oT_iSPk**


	7. Meltdown

Shadow ran faster than Zero could, but the remaining canine was headstrong. He knew these sinking pillars would lead to a dead end, the full-on breaks to the hedgehog's spree of mass badnik murder. The jackal was one of those that kept their eyes peeled around the quarters of the place, after all. And for a strong being, Shadow seemed to be such a fool.

"Hey, you!" Fatman piped up. "I know you can hear me!" he exclaimed over the communicator as Zero nimbly jumped from pillar to pillar, his shiny gloves and sneakers highlighted in faint lime.

"You're captain of Squad Jackal, aren't you?!" He would retort that with a snark comment, considering that they'd already known each other for two months, but he let it slide, settling on the last pillar that leaned over the edge of land, where Shadow had stopped to.

"Your squad was useless!" Fatman was right. Those words sadly rang true, and for a second, his heart's strong beating went blank.

 _And soon, the same can be said about you._

His doubtful mind's been bothering him ever since he first looked at Shadow as he chased him down. He thwarted off that thought tugging at his mind, defined by an uncertain truth. There was no way Shadow could handle him-he was their leader. But this rebel brought a battle against a body of six to his favor. Zero, however, had the natural dexterity, instincts, and leadership skills that made him squad commander.

 _You're just wasting your time. Don't fight him_ —look at him. No weapons, nowhere near the speeds of Sonic, no train of thought it seems, nothing. He looked like he embodied style more than anything.

 _You saw your useless squad. They were all nearly_ motionless _._

Zero couldn't find Aider's bag of beans to heal them; he hoped they could live another day.

"Go clean up their mess already—!"

"Alright," Zero spat, clicking off the transmission so fast he was unsure if Eggman heard his response, but he didn't care. But did Eggman really wait that long to respond as he thought—? No way, time was only going at a slower pace in his head.

 _Don't do it_ —do it. _Don't even try_ —do try.

 _Do it and you'll lose, just like how you lost all throughout your life._

Do it and you'll prove your strength. This is your first good challenge in many a moon, and it'd be unspeakably embarrassing to back off and let Shadow proceed with his destruction.

Perhaps that was true, but he tucked the attention of the uncertain chemistry of anxiety to the back of his head, in spite of a part of it churning his belly.

 _He's hiding behind a lit pillar. Make up your mind now._

A padded glove squeaked from his tight clenching. Zero was starting to question if this was truly the Shadow he was sent after, the same one that Eggman spoke about in a degree of hatred. He looked harmless, totally clueless it seemed. This was the guy that destroyed his squad? His family? The jackal couldn't stop entertaining his curious mind with these questions.

He slid his legs apart, knees bent, fists closed, his blackened canine lips unveiling a sneer of jagged unevenness. Moment of truth; with a forced exhale through his nostrils, Zero ushered himself straight into his target. Through the gust of wind, Shadow simply glimpsed at him, before a fuzz of blue energy warped him away.

"What?" he said with concern as his hi-tops slid onto the copper ground. Where did he—he heard a surge of energy, and it wasn't long before Zero sawfelt a blur of red swung upwards into his chest, knocking him straight into the air as he ditched his sword. His lungs stung like a boulder had rolled over them—a blurry pile of balled fists and a menacing grimace came for his head—

—Where am I? What is this? Has the planet had been turned on its _side?!_ Memories of current relevance came rushing back while he felt a rush of agony slapping his ribs as he bounced off his side. And soon, another blur of black and red assaulted him—

—Zero felt his back intermingle with the jagged edges of an aged, mossy pillar, the impact so strident he swore he saw a flash of white from it before he collapsed on the ground, breathless.

Thankfully, he can still feel his arms and legs trembling, but to the cost of feeling no pleasure at all from the onslaught of attacks unleashed upon him.

He saw his recognizable crimson blade bobbing back and forth subtlety, approaching him with careful pace. Then he saw its true bearer—Shadow. _Shadow!_

A contorted grunt was all Zero said, his feet squirming back to see Shadow, his back firing tendrils of pain with every single instance of movement. Something was chewing on Zero's mind while he stared at this creature. Who...where...when...what _is_ he?!

"Worthless," it spoke.

One word was all it took for Zero to squirm back even more, a hand covering his face. Something about it was familiarly eerie...the colors, the stare...its voice...

Just like the gigantic jackal he faced before, only this time resembling more of the murals knitted on the quilts back in his village. Only this time, it was worse. This... _"hedgehog"_ resembled his fears moreso than the other foe. Additionally, he was already at his peak as a leader and a fighter, and to be sent back to square one from a few, effortless pride-shattering strikes made him fearfully in awe of this.

The jackal's lungs were trembling from exhilaration and reactionary terror overtaking him. Under loud breaths could aqua and gold eyes alike see The Shadow holding his sword, examining it with those gruesome, red eyes. What will happen to him now? Will this dark omen make quick work of him like he did to his squad? There was a narrow chance of him escaping from this ebony premonition, but he was out of breath, his throat and nose stung from exasperation, and he started to develop a degree of claustrophobia, enclosed within an absurdly small ring of slabs, and his back stuck right against a huge totem pole nearly made him yell in pain. Was this The Shadow's sacrificial ring?!

The Shadow frowned at his weapon. Maybe he had predicated a dissatisfaction had it used his sword on him? And then the reckoned force merely tossed it over him, the blade coming dangerously close to his head as it spun away. _No!_ His prized possession, exiled by this creature. He knew he wasn't going to be lucky as the Crimson.

Zero's stare slowly perched itself upon The Shadow again. It stood tall, its precedence like a living, breathing skyscraper with two, unreadable eyes. Zero couldn't get enough air to enter his lungs without it shuffling back out as his other hand shifted behind him, feeling nothing but wall.

Stay back, _stay back..._

One metallic hoverskate of the standing monstrosity brought itself forth, inching the creature's influence even closer to Zero's diminishing esteem.

"Don't show your pathetic face around me ever again," it commanded masterfully, the word 'pathetic' igniting a surely pathetic whimper outwards at him. It made The Shadow's brow glower.

"O-okay!" Zero yelled, both of his hands outward, trying to push that growing, invisible aura of him away. But its influence was taking a toll on his mind. "S...stay back, stay back, stay back..." he quietly reiterated, each utterance of the phrase increasingly quieter than the last. It felt like his voice box was shrinking by the second.

The Shadow's voice was so heavy and giant, like an aural spirit yanking his ears open full-force to make sure he heard it crystal-clear. To him, it sounded much louder than his pounding heart. The Shadow was...disturbing, and commanding! The feeble jackal only imagined the suffering he would have went through had he continued to follow through with his assault! It stared at him for a second longer, with those red eyes that must have came from a place so dark and conceited even he couldn't fathom what that place _was like_. Had an inkling of pity poised itself on its fixed gaze?! Desperately, he hung onto that thought. Please, spare me. Oh so help me please, _please!_

And suddenly, the torturesome creature flashed—vanished...he was gone. Did he...he wished it away? Was The Shadow an apparition? He had to make sure; he went to stand, and turned around to see his sword just before it collapsed _—no!_ He reacted to the falling crimson as the pain writhed in his body, with him holding onto the pillar, slowly sliding down against it until his behind sat on the ground again, releasing himself from the stone, laying against it once more. The jackal felt a piece of him lost when his ears twitched to the sound of the sword submerging into the river.

It was gone. The Crimson sword was gone, pathetically facing a watery fate in the Mystic Jungle's river. All he had left now was his sacred fire, brightening up the night as it laid spread across the Moon.

The Shadow of jackal folklore was a mischievous figure—a bad omen, maybe no more taller than the average cotton-tipped canine. It usually came about during the night, its fur bundled, appeared to arc upwards to the night skies from where it gotten its power from. But it was stated not to provoke it, or a 'thunderous backfire' will give the agitator permanent whiplash. And when it was all said and done, the creature banished the punished from walking distance with them ever again. A few jackal messengers were fools to invoke anger on their first encounter with it, and it grew stronger in the absolute darkness hidden within the tight cracks and crevices in and around it after every punishment, to make its bringing pain even more chaotic.

And after all this time, the childhood nightmares could never be shrugged off. They only slept an angry rest...and when they woke, they drove a wave of unfettered fear on him. One only had to hope The Shadow never returned again, never thrice, daily, monthly, annually...it had no concept of time, leaving it to freely curse several people that had angered it.

He stared at the emblazoned torch ahead of him, but it wasn't the same. He knew his friend was up there, in the Moonlight...they could only help him so much... Zero brought his palms up. They jittered fastidiously.

Am I...shaking? _...Me?!_ Me...

And his nose, it could still smell the aura that The Shadow had threatened to chokehold him with. Its smell...he couldn't really describe it clearly if he could...but it made him powerless, docile...

"...Afraid...!?" His eyes couldn't take themselves off of his quivering palm. Something made him drew it close to his face, covering his eyes. Yes, his hand should comfort him, surely so... But paranoia gave him an inclination to detach his palm and closed eyelids alike, for if The Shadow would ever appear again, it may find a way to re-enter through his mind!

"'Pathetic'?..." his deep voice sounded like it was delivered through the mind of a prepubescent child, unable to grasp why they felt themselves shaken up.

He tried to rise, his legs staggering with a knee perched on the ground. It was hard to do this when it felt like as if his father had spanked him a thousand times over.

"Me...he's calling me weak?"

Was that the message the ominous Shadow was telling him? The canine had heard this phrase touted in tow with him. Weakness was something that embraced him, relished in his presence, no matter how much he'd tried to run away from it.

It put him down, made him feel guilty of his presence, always nagging on him...but it also made him disgusted. Enraged. His fear had turned into straight anger. And when that happened, it could take a prickling of a hair to truly set him off. His shoulders rode an riled oscillation, flowing up and down from heaving breaths.

He was still in one piece, he could still fight...the sword—was only an _extension_ , not a _representation_ of him.

Yes!

"No!" he spat out instead, in the context of fighting his inner demons.

 _You are weak._

"I am not weak!" he self-proclaimed. "I'm...I'm not..." he kept telling himself like a broken record, head shaking; in denial.

 _You're pathetic._ I'm not. _You're worthless._ I'm not. _You're weak._

He heard his father say this.

The townsfolk telling him this.

The counsel informing his son of this lowly quality, because of the birthmark on his eye.

The large jackal who had fun making him tremble underneath his size, crushing him like a twig.

 _You are weak._

" _I'm not weak!_ " He spouted angrily, tearing through an uneven mound of carved earth with his claws, desperately darting his eyes at the patched grounds afterward.

The ground looked just like the time of when he was a broken kid, in a similar situation to this, if not worse. Regardless, it unlocked a torrent of emotions violently through his mind, relentlessly reminding him of when he was a defenseless child, what with the bullies of the village taking him away from the joys of childhood with every kick and smack they gave to his little body, curled up into a tight ball.

Two stubborn jaws grinded to and fro harshly, and made him feel and taste fragments of calloused enamel sprinkling onto his tongue before the foam started encroaching between his jaws.

Zero was drowned in his thoughts, he can almost feel the harsh treatment he had with that gang and various other bullies, failed mercenary excursions, the tossing and turning of being tussled around as a child, the names angry clients spouted at him, his banishment, the comments...it kept circling around repeatedly as he felt a rush of tragic excitement overwhelm him as his body shook.

"I'm not weaaaak...!" he exerted through his clamped jaws. His gloved hand nearly tuckered itself into a fist as he wrinkled the solid rock into mere pebbles within his leather palm. His face became a contortion of madness. Weakness driven him into hysteria, his nerves running wild from the blood boiling inside him. He veered back, and felt the manifestation of frustration about to explode.

"URRRAAAAAAAAAGH!" Zero screamed throughout the starry skies, expunging himself of his inner turmoils in an a state of immense anguish. He heard his roaring scream carry out in echoes, expelling outwards in quieter copies of itself until the fleeting voice became no more.

He slowly sauntered onto his knees as he hiccuped a cry, and laid his hands onto the edge of the rock The Shadow once laid its presence on. A chilly feeling assaulted him and made his fur stand on-end.

He huddled close into himself, just like he did all those years ago when this exact feeling of goosebumps was cascading on the surface of his skin. And with that, he heard the leaves whispering at him. To this day, he wondered if they were laughing at him in their own foreign gossip.

From whence anger had settled in his head came sadness' pain, the abundance of it was too much to the point where he wailed out in silence as his tears tapped the surface of the earth.

A watery sniffle pleaded more sobbing, and this time with his voice crinkled into saddened breaths. He let it all out, with the melting columns of tears coating his cheeks, and the loose secretion of snot clinging to the rock from wet nostrils. He licked his lips, tasting a bitter, salty tear as he held on the stone as tight as he could.

He shook his head.

"What good am I for?" he spoke quietly to himself with a nasally sniffle, along with a newly-formed bubble of phlegm emerging from his nose.

A double beep signaled on his watch, loudly into his ear, but no pain amounted to what he felt right now.

"Alright Captain, tell me the news. Hello, come in. This is Eggman. Come in..."

His mind processed his commander's comments into drowning blurbs, the cacophony intruding his moment. Zero slowly removed his wristwatch and thrusted it into the wall nearby, smothering it back and forth before he removed his hand, returning to the moistened rock as particles of the watch sprinkled the ground from the earthen wall.

And he went back to crying once more. He cried, and cried, and cried, until he was awake no more. He slept, silently whimpering in his sleep as more tears flowed through closed eyes, and his fingers rigidly scraped along the rock with a slow crawl.

* * *

 **Yes, the moment you'd been waiting for, this whole time I bet. The almighty 'weak I am not' scene. This scene prolly makes more sense now since it already established what was going on with Inf. for the past six chapters. Not only that, we see what happens after his 'troubled two' moment.**

 **I'm guessing u wanna hear the tunes that I played while making the second half of this chapter:**

 **/watch?v=PLdzvzbEBBk**

 **/watch?v=LIuy81GiLl0**


	8. Rebirth

Slowly, the jackal plodded his feet across the hallway to the large containment doors. He was aided by two Egg Pawns, patiently helping him mobilize on either side as he kept his head down, a bucket covering his face, with two large holes carved out himself at the top of it to accommodate his ears. His body became thinner from a lack of eating, and fur disheveled from a lack of self-perseverance. He forced his appetite to a crumb, a droplet, and the sanitized air. He felt he didn't deserve the Doctor's mercy.

For weeks, the sad Zero went into his personal quarters and never really did much besides sitting on the floor, abandoning a bed that would have kept him comfort. He sat there in pain, silently dealing with his body's attempt to heal him from the Shadow's blows. He never tossed a glance at his comrades, despite his ears acknowledging their presence with occasional flickering.

Had he had the courage to take a second to look at them, his heart would have sank even harder, seeing them completely covered in castings and bandages, tangible things that could never repair the intangible presence of pride. They called to him, pleaded to him that things should get better; to not be ashamed. But they were like a body of phantoms to him.

The other jackals saw him carry a bucket on his head; it smelt of chemicals and the stench straddled to his face symbiotically, but he was apathetic, even so with the handle dangling, lightly brushing into the white fur that hung around his neck.

 _A failure._ Why did Eggman keep him? _To show everyone that Zero the Weakling is a prime example who not to be._ Why couldn't he be thrown into a pit in Sand Hill, awaiting to be devoured by a Sand Worm? _Because even a Sand Worm would die of starvation before it tried to eat you._

So many questions to sift through, and so many steps to go through.

Eventually, he saw the floor take on a dark shine of clean, perfect chrome. Faint reflections of light danced around his feet, but his same two feet he had seen day after day had put a better impression on him than anything else.

After several slow minutes had passed, and the Pawns had taken a step back, the merciful scientist spoke.

"Zero...Zero. Hello? Zero."

He didn't respond; the voice was simply something that made his eardrums bounce. Eggman sighed, perching two of his fingers underneath the jackal's chin, and slowly lifted it up, despite the bucket having no visible eye-holes.

"Hi," Eggman greeted him. The spherical scientist twirled around, fingers padding on the keyboard.

"I've been tinkering with that gem you once sliced at before. Seeing as you obliged to serve under my empire, and how you had ran into a bit of difficulty with Shadow...I figured you deserved more—oh come on!"

Zero's head hung low again, and Eggman brought his face up a second time. He was about to remove the bucket, but instead he looked at the ground, pensive eye ridge burrowed in the middle of his face for a moment.

Then, the scientist removed his glasses, gingerly placing them on the table. With no warning, he pinched his fingers along the ridges of the ear-holes and lifted the bucket from his head.

Zero blinked, taken aback by both his own and Eggman's sudden cosmetic change.

"That's right. Got your attention now, didn't I?" the fat fellow said with a smirk, blinking constantly despite the moderate level of light within this place. Little beads of egg-white carried pinholes of bright blue, blinking intermittently, sensitive to seeing things without a tinge of cerulean layered in front. "Anyways," Eggman said while his nostrils flared from the incoming scent of chemicals aired out from Zero's face as he tapped a button, "Here." The glass dome was lifted by a claw, showing a peculiar object. "It looked like you needed a better mask than that."

Zero's hands reached for it, and he simply stared at his new possession with gleaming eyes. Did this Eggman reached into his mind and pulled out the past for him to see...for him to _touch?_

Eggman adjusted his spectacles back into place, having them sit along the ridge of his pink nose.

"I looked into some research for your kind, attempting to see why you reacted the way you did after your fight with Shadow. As a result, this is an amalgamated replica based on the jackals' beliefs on modesty."

The jackal sniffled at it, shoulders shyly hunching, eyes moistening. For a moment, he was a pup once more, standing next to his father amongst the elderlies, one of whom let him hold a mask in his feeble palms.

"Put it on..." Eggman goaded with an encouraging nod.

Zero placed the mask carefully over his face, caressing the object with thoughtful care.

"What do you think?"

"It is...it's very thoughtful of you, f...doctor." His voice trembled slightly, his head drooped a slight angle. A tear fell from the bottom edge of the mask as his yellow eye looked at the scientist. Somehow, it comforted him to see everything moderately tinged in red, in addition to not being able to see through the eye that carried the mark that scorned his family; a fitting punishment, it seemed.

Eggman gave him some nods, then held up a finger. "Before you go, I have one more thing..."

He pushed his finger on a button to a cube, and a ceiling claw lifted the glass container perched on top of it in response. Eggman reached inside, and revealed a stone shaped in the vein of a pyramid attached to a string. The lone gem swung gently in the air.

"Wh...what is this?" the jackal croaked.

"Wear it and find out."

Zero blinked before he attentively held the necklace in his hands, seeing the fuschia-red object glistening in the light, his eyes nearly circling around the swirling, purple pattern crested on it. Carefully, he lifted it over his ears and placed it around his neck.

It pulsed crimson.

Suddenly, he felt a whirlwind of invigoration flowing through his body. It was like it scrubbed him of his depression and aches alike, and embraced him with an invisible hug that made him feel warm. _Eggman—_ he did it. He let him hold the fire!

"What is this...? Have you...you've given me—"

"—Power," Eggman said with a huge grin. "The Phantom Ruby possesses abilities that will amplify your own thousandfold." And then he leaned in, fingers brushing along a chin hidden inside his collar. "Do you wish to test your newfound strength?"

"Yes. Yes, Doctor" he pleaded, his hands enthusiastically placed on the doctor's shoulders for a moment before latching them off, aware of his juvenile behavior.

Eggman snickered while he tapped a button on the table, and ahead of him, a hole in the floor formed, revealing several steps to an illuminated hallway.

"Go ahead."

This had to be heaven he was entering. Every step that inched towards those whitening steps, every heart pulse making that ruby glisten on his chest made him have a huge smile hidden away by his new gift.

He was born anew, skewed from his previous creed, his previous shamefulness. As the bright light led to a giant room, where previously-deactivated robots stood dormant in the lot of the arena, he felt nothing towards them.

Nothing. That was what he used to feel, and what his name used to mean. But now, no longer was _he_ nothing.

Eggman's face appeared in the domed wall ahead of him, perched on a screen with a smile as the giant badniks were activated, their weaponous extremities twisted and rotated in a quick check-up state, soonafter arming themselves straight at the comparatively-small canine.

No longer was he nothing. He was anything.

And their huge spiked hands came for him.

He simply buckled into himself, his arms laid crossed over each other limply, before he swung them apart gracefully as a swirling blast of unknown energy completely took over them.

Their arms hung in the balance of a realm of space and time incomprehensible, and yet the jackal could understand the difference. The left side showed what was happening through the eyes of the lesser, and the right showed it in pure scarlet, yet comprehensible enough to see that their metallic arms were torn apart and wrenched by the twisted scarves of energy. He saw in two, very distinct perspectives, yet his mind was able to tell the difference flawlessly. He didn't feel disoriented, only in total control.

This was only beginning of his savagery.

With the right side of his mask persistently glowing in furious red, the jackal sent a hand outward, shunning a parasitic swarm of twitching cubes out of nowhere from behind himself, scattering them towards the damaged wiring of the hunks of metal, lodging themselves into the open crevices, and others eating upon the non-organic flesh.

Not long after that, he swung his claws at the other one, swishing open several, giant gashes across its armored belly. He felt the metal he scratched through, even though he still remained in the same spot he was when they first tried to attack him. Then he yolked his wrists inward, feeling the thick cables inside, and telepathically thrusted them out, hanging his listless hands in the air as his mask was glistening in bright red, with the wires swathing out of the badnik's huge frame.

Then he went ahead and ferociously tossed his arms at the other, the wiring stabbing into the cube-riddled victim.

From the eyes of Eggman, he already witnessed one of the bots' metallic shelling chewed off by the bevy of cubes, and now witnessed the process of metallic veins pulled around, wriggling uncontrollably, tossed effortlessly, snapping, twisting-networking itself through both towering bots inside and out. It was frightening to watch, but astonishing to see in motion.

The canine ended this little routine by gouging a huge, red eye out with severed strands of wiring, purposefully prying it open as sparks oozed out of its nonexistent cornea. Finally, he flicked his arms as wide as he could, cracking the eye in half as the force of it caused the remaining badnik to topple over, falling into the net of wiring and parts.

Soon, the spiraling vista was obliterated, and he simply stared at them, the weaklings they were. He dug his fingers into his palms, making the domed chromes buckle and whine as the metal is pulled and vacuumed into themselves.

The noise of fretting metals reminded him of that drum noise. It was pounding in his mind, ushering him to go on and prolong their torture for as long as he wanted.

He already knew by this point he had embraced crimson, and crimson embraced him.

"That's enough!"

The speakered voice beckoned him to reality, and he opened his clawed fist, looking straight up at the Doctor, the one who helped him be born anew.

"Magnificent display of powers, Zero. Perhaps, I should give you a new name..."

Yes, this Doctor, his savior, was very much in tune with his current thoughts. No longer was he nothing.

He was anything.

"Aha! I have the ideal name for you. Infinite," he said with goodwill.

The masked figure's smile was hidden, but his bliss wasn't.

"It's perfect, Doctor."

* * *

 **So now it's established that this mofreaker is a weakling behind a mask and a gem. Great job, Shadow.**

 **BTW the music links u saw at the bottom of the previous chapter was also listened to while making this.**

 **Betting this must be better than "I...was...REBORN!"**


	9. Epilogue

Infinite.

It is an impeccable name. It embodies who he became, and the undying influence of the Phantom Ruby fused with him. It had already assimilated itself onto his chest from prolonged bonding, fueling him with incomprehensible clout, like a nonexistent core kept underneath tiers of wild crimson that only one with a broken soul like his could control. Just thinking about this makes his body engulfed within a grandiose influence of absolute power.

His empowering aura causes the obese Egg Pawns to scatter away from him as he lazily floats in the air like a limp doll, his bundle of dreadlocks swaying almost soundlessly, clinging onto the masked head.

He wanted to train himself further, aiming to reach heights of power he never thought possible.

Suddenly, the corridor is awashed in a tone of discrete red. Infinite could never get enough of that color.

" **ALERT! ALERT! INTRUDER DETECTED ON SECTOR MID-25-A. REPEAT: INTRUDER DETECTED ON PYRAMID SECTOR MID-25-A** " the monotonous computer voice announces.

"You heard the drill, Pawns! Foster your comrades down there and terminate the enemy accordingly!" Eggman redundantly commands through the speakers.

The Egg Pawns did not heed his command however, only creeping away from the masked figure as he glows persistently, playing with a ball of energy in the clutches of his sharpened fingers, letting it dilate and abbreviate with every movement of his flowing fingers, with him aptly wondering how many ways he will take down this pest.

Would it be the Shadow? Although cocky with power...it made the hairs on his neck stand up. Matters may only be made worse if Sonic is just as, if not _more_ threatening than the ebony force that shook his spine.

But the bright fire in his hand tells him to keep calm, never to worry. It's finally with him— _inside_ him. It makes his mind collected, and just about anybody knows a collected mind will set you far.

He nods. Infinite can never deny that in present time, he will never be weak ever again. Only fathom it.

* * *

 **There u have it. Hope u liked it. Took me a whole month of retooling & debating on whether I should upload this story now or later.**

 **If u have any constructive criticisms, keep it real and tell me how u feel about it, what u like & what u don't like. No story's perfect.**

 **Now, will I be making a Sonic Forces story adaptation? Time will tell...it's in the oven tho.**


End file.
